


Lost and Confused

by Capstar98



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Concussions, Confusion, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 10:57:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18570013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capstar98/pseuds/Capstar98
Summary: Peter doesn't know where his is, but he knows he's safe when Tony's around.(aka Peter has a concussion)





	Lost and Confused

**Author's Note:**

> This story is really dumb and short and just something I wrote for fun so take it with a grain of salt.

Peter’s vision was fuzzy for some reason. He kept trying to blink, but his eyesight wasn’t getting any clearer. 

He realized he was on his back. When did that happen? Was he in bed? No -- it was too uncomfortable for him to be in bed. Actually, now that he thought about it, his head was pounding. It felt like someone had stuck a needle in his head. Had he been stabbed in the head? 

As he blinked again, his vision spun, and he felt nausea rising up in his chest. A strange sound was ringing in his ears. He could barely turn over before he was throwing up violently. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t stop. 

After he finished throwing up, his vision managed to finally settle. But what he saw didn’t make anything clearer. 

Peter was lying on what looked like broken concrete. Why was he doing that? That didn’t sound like something he would do. Where was he? For some reason, he couldn’t concentrate. His head kept reminding him how much it was hurting. 

He realized that he was lying next to what looked like vomit, and pushed himself away from it. The movement sent shocks of pain up his chest and around his head, and he groaned. 

Slowly, he pushed himself to a sitting position. 

Bad idea. He turned his head and threw up where the other vomit was. He screwed up his eyes, and his hands went up to his head as he tried to push the pain away, but it only made things worse. 

He might’ve sat there for seconds, or for hours -- but slowly, the ringing in his ears quieted and he realized that someone was saying his name. He opened his eyes, squinting against the light that drilled into his brain, and looked around for the source. 

But there was no one there. He just saw broken concrete, and pieces of metal. Distantly he thought that he should be concerned by that. Something wasn’t right here, beyond his… his… 

Suddenly, a huge noise blasted through his eardrums. His vision turned grey, and he couldn’t tell which way was up. 

He might have blacked out, because when he opened his eyes there was a person filling his vision. He shook his head, hoping to clear the cobwebs, but it only served to make him more nauseous.

There was a hand on his shoulder that kept him from falling back over. 

“Peter?” a voice was saying. “Peter, can you hear me?” 

He groaned. 

Apparently that was enough of a response. “That’s right, Pete. You’re okay. You’re -- FRIDAY, where’s that transport?” 

Friday? Why was the voice talking to a day of the week? He blinked and saw concerned brown eyes staring back at him. He knew that face. That was -- “Mssr Stark?” he slurred. 

“Yeah, kid. It’s me. You’re not looking so hot -- how’s that head feeling?” 

“M’ head?” He reached a hand up to his forehead but it was stopped before it could get there. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mr. Stark said. “Yeah, don’t touch that. That doesn’t look good. We’re gonna not touch that.” His voice sounded stressed and panicky. Was he upset?

He asked just that, though it was hard to talk. His mouth wasn’t working right. 

Tony chuckled. “Let’s just focus on you, huh Pete?” There was a cool hand at the back of his neck, and he leaned into it. 

Why were things so confusing? Where was he? “What’re you doin’ here?” he asked.

“Well, you managed to get yourself blown up, and I’m here -- oh, Jesus!” 

Peter didn’t know when he had started, but he was throwing up again. Tony had twisted him so he wasn’t barfing on himself. 

“Yeah, that was gross. And definitely not good. FRI, update?” 

Peter spat, and looked up from the pile of vomit beside him. He saw Tony’s face in front of his. “Msr S’ark,” he said. “It’s you.” 

A pause. “Yeah, kid. We established this. It’s me.” 

His vision was greying at the edges again, and he leaned into the arm that was supporting him. He just wanted to sleep, he was so tired. 

“Hey, hey! None of that! Focus up, Pete. Keep those eyes open.” The voice was more concerned now. Peter wondered why. 

He tried, but he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He was too tired, and his head hurt too much. His vision faded. 

“Peter!” 

* * *

When his eyes opened again, he cried out in pain as light bored into his brain and split open his head. 

“Whoa! Lights 50 percent.” As he forced his eyes open again, he saw Tony Stark. 

“Mr. Stark!” he said. “What’s going on? Where am I?” 

Tony looked tired. “Don’t you remember, Pete? We’re at the Avengers compound. You were in an explosion, and you hit your head pretty bad.” 

“I hit my head?” Why would he hit his head? Wait, what did he say? “What happened?” 

“You were in an explosion,” Mr. Stark replied, sitting down in a chair next to the bed he was lying in. It sounded like he had answered that question a few times already. 

“I don’t… where’s Ned?” 

Tony sighed. “Ned’s not here, and May’s not here yet, but she’s on her way.” 

“You’re here?” 

He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I’m here, bud.” 

Peter looked around, trying to figure out where he was. It looked like a hospital -- bright walls and windows in the door and equipment in the corner of the room. Something was beeping to his right. 

He was confused. Where was he? He asked that to Tony. Tony would know the answer. 

“Damn it kid!” he sounded frustrated. “You’re on the moon -- you’re at Disneyland -- you’re… doesn’t even matter, you won’t remember again in five minutes.” 

Peter shook his head. He didn’t understand. “Mr. Stark?” 

“You’re off in the sugar plum forest, Pete. Relax.” 

Nothing Mr. Stark was saying was making any sense. He was confused. He didn’t remember getting here. He didn’t remember what had happened. Where was he?

His breaths were coming faster and faster as he struggled to contain his panic. “Mr. Stark? What -- what’s going on? I don’t -- where -- I don’t know what’s goin on --” 

Tony was at his side again, grabbing his hand, his face pained. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m sorry -- you’re okay, Pete. We’re at the compound, in the med bay. You were in an explosion, and you hit your head. That’s why you’re so confused right now. But you’re safe, okay? Please, relax. You’re okay.” 

Mr. Stark’s voice was carefully calm, but it steadied Peter. He calmed down as he took in the words. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, though he didn’t know what he was apologizing for. 

Tony’s expression was gentle. “You don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay. Just -- try and go back to sleep, okay? Just rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

“Okay,” he replied. He was still confused, but he knew it would be alright. Tony would watch out for him. He relaxed and closed his eyes, falling into the pull of sleep. 

* * *

Peter woke to the sounds of people talking. Before he even opened his eyes, he felt the pounding in his head. It felt like it was about to burst from the pressure. He knew instinctively that opening his eyes would make it wore, but he did it anyway. 

He was right. He shaded his eyes from the light and groaned. “Can you turn the light off?” he said. 

Suddenly the voices stopped, and there was a figure by his side. 

“Peter, you’re awake! How are you feeling, honey?” It was May. She was looking at him with kind eyes, her hand wrapped around his. 

“My head hurts,” he replied weakly. 

She smiled softly. “I bet it does. Don’t worry, you’re okay. Do you remember what happened?” 

He shook his head, looking around. “Where am I?” 

“You’re in the compound. You were in an explosion, and you hit your head pretty bad. That’s why you can’t remember what happened,” Tony stepped forwards. It sounded like he had been practicing those words. 

“Oh,” he replied. He thought back, trying desperately to remember. He knew that he had been going after someone… “Electro?” he said. “It was Electro.” 

Tony smiled. “That’s it. Is your head finally clearing up?” 

“But… what happened? Did Electro…” 

“The Avengers took care of it,” May replied. 

“Yeah, don’t worry,” Tony replied. “He didn’t make it far. Seems like that explosion he created to stop you pretty much sent him down for the count as well. He used up too much juice.” 

Suddenly, Peter realized what had happened, and his eyes widened. He saw flashes in his mind of the broken concrete and rebar. His hand shot up to his forehead, and he felt a bandage there. “Did -- did anyone get hurt?” he asked. 

“Besides you, you mean?” Tony replied, eyebrow raised. When Peter didn’t relax, he shook his head, hands raised placatingly. “Calm down. No one else was hurt. I promise.” 

“Good,” he sighed, relaxing back into the cushions of the bed. Then he looked between Mr. Stark and Aunt May. Their faces were concerned, eyebrows drawn together in worry. He looked down at the sheets, suddenly ashamed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to get hurt.” 

Aunt May sighed, her hand tightening on his. “Peter, you don’t need to apologize. We know it’s not your fault.”

“If I had been… faster,” he argued. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “You can barely remember what happened. Who says you could have been faster? You’re safe. That’s all that matters right now.” 

“I don’t like worrying you.” 

May gave a weak chuckle. “And we don’t like being worried. But it’s kind of in the job description.” 

Tony walked over to the other side of the bed and reached down to run a hand in his hair. He leaned into the touch subconsciously. “We know you try your best, Pete. But you can sure put on a show. It’s not your fault, but we never want to see you hurt. So try your best not to be, okay?”   

Peter gave him a soft smile. “Yeah. I’ll try.” 

As he closed his eyes again to go back to sleep, he did so relaxed, knowing that wherever they were, he was safe. 

**Author's Note:**

> I always love a little concussion-style confusion, so I hope I pulled it off. Comment your thoughts! <3


End file.
